An Indiction
by GetInTheAnimus
Summary: A brief reflection as Aerith weaves together the 89th letter to Zack. Promises are spoken, but not all are fulfilled. Light Zack/Aerith.


A personification of inanimate objects was rather bizarre, but the flowers that day hung their heads in something akin to shame. The breeze that swept through the break in the church rustled them, and they responded weakly. Previously had a violent storm spread its wings over the city of Midgar, quenching the thirst of a little patch of wildlife.

At first, emerald optics had gazed out a window, filled to the brim with worry – storms were rough, but the wrath was unyielding in strikes of lightning and sheets of precipitation. Aerith had expressed her concern to Elmyra, but the flames of her worry were slowly doused with a reassurance of words.

Now, the sky was a canvas of smudged greys and whites. The birth of a new day was both refreshing, yet troubling.

The gentle leaves of the flowers caressed her calves, paper resting on a pad for support, right hand occupied by a pen that tapped ever so thoughtfully against the top of the page. Her mind was a whirl of thoughts, a mix of emotions conjured up by an absence that slowly grew in her heart for _four years_. With each ticking moment, each passing day that grew into weeks, months, and soon years – everything was pulling towards a horrid realization. It was a realization so realistic considering _his _nature that she did not want to admit it. Yet the idea had clung to her tongue, and her mouth was robbed of letters and phrasings.

"You said you'd come see me..." she muttered, hues drifting towards the yellow petals. "I'm still waiting – I've always been here."

Something clutched at her chest painfully, gripping the organ that contained her precious feelings like iron bands. Aerith's throat felt tight, mouth dry – had she done something wrong? Did she say something that was the catalyst to a declining relationship? It was true she was never serious with _him_, but that didn't make the feelings any less visible. They were there – they always were, and over time, letter upon letter had been sent out, each hopeful that they would earn a response she so desired.

"You were always busy, weren't you, Zack?"

He left, claiming he had an important mission. To where? She didn't know. But in the time span of their separation, she was able to contact him _once_. Signal was poor, but she was thrilled to hear his voice on the other end.

The response...

"_Uh, listen... Now's not the best time. I'll call you later._"

Offense had not laced those words, yet they still struck her heart. She had withdrawn, saying it was not necessary to call back. Then he made the promise to visit her. And she should've known it was going to prove to be a complication, a promise that would most likely never be filled. To an absence of surprise, she was right.

Young love was foolish, she realizes this now. It was rather... amusing how quickly she cast her heart to a young stranger. They spent time together, but there was always that invisible restriction, a barrier cruelly placed by fate – unavoidable. Aerith enjoyed the time they had spent together: selling flowers, watching Zack put together a flower wagon (though the mechanical one wasn't really a hit, and they had run into some problems with Shinra, which they laughed off upon returning to the church)...

Twenty-three tiny wishes...

Looking back on them, she couldn't remember the whole list. With a set of letters cast out, she began to forget, but there was one that stubbornly refused to dissipate:

_I want to spend more time with you._

Was it... stupid to say she still wanted that wish? That a part of her hopelessly prayed to fate's cruel backside?

A quake of thunder shakes her out of her thoughts, and her gaze averts from the sky back to the paper. A blank page would get nowhere, so for the first time in weeks, she places the pen tip to parchment and writes.

The half hour evolves into a full hour by the time she has sent the letter off. She's unsure of an address, where to put a name. All she remembers in the blur of events is the way her ink-stained hands trembled, for in those words woven to parchment, she concluded that budding relationship. It was both with numbness and a heavy heart that she returned home.

_What she didn't know, and would never learn, was that Zack remembered. All it took was a skim of the wish and the paper had been folded, new goal set in mind._

_With Cloud, he would return to Midgar, and that promise would be sealed._

**But not all heroes have happy endings.**

* * *

_A little drabble/one shot for Aerith and Zack since... I ship them pretty hard. In any case, this is my first one shot for the series of Final Fantasy VII, so I hope you all enjoyed!  
_


End file.
